Death is Never Clearly Defined
by KAWAIIwolf-luvr
Summary: Set after 'Sacrifice Myself For You'. After Harry died, Draco set off to find his missing father, but what he finds first might save him from his own intent for repentance. Set: 2 yrs after 6th Bk. Main pair: HP'DM. some: RL'SB. possible: RW'HG. SLASH!
1. Hectic

**Death is Never Clearly Defined**

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**Chapter 1:** Hectic

**Summary:** Main Story after 'Sacrifice Myself For You'. After Harry died, Draco set off to find his missing father, but what he finds first, might save him from his own intentions. Setting: 2 years after 6th book. Main pair: HP'DM. some: RW'HG. possible: RL'SB.

**Disclaimer: **… I own the handcuffs and the whip… that's all… #tear#

**Warnings:** Slash; no like, no read… and if you don't care for my choice of subjects to write about, then 'eff you sir, 'eff you in the bunghole… (credited to Robbie & Brynn). Gore, bad language and characters being IN character (for the most part, yet as they will, characters will change depending on events that happen) will appear in abundance throughout this whole story, so again, if you don't approve, then I will gladly offer my ass to thee for thou to KISS! (if you need a translation then I feel sorry for you…) Also, if you haven't read up to the 6th book, there ARE spoilers, too. Nice flames are allowed but anything mean, demeaning, or condescending will be ignored.

**A/N:** These chapters will be long but will take a while to get posted… partially my fault cuz I am currently suffering from writer's block… partially cuz I am back in school… and mostly cuz I am dense #sigh# Any suggestions will be welcomed with open arms… well… mostly… and if you think I should change the title AND have a suggestion, then I will consider it… umm… I think that's it… XD

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Sorry, but this is my first slashie… please tell me, peoples, if I get OOC without having a good reason for the part… I will try to fix it (if you tell me about it first)… And if I get the phrases wrong, sorry… I am an American… don't blame me, blame my parents #grin#…

Jeez… I talk too much before chapters… #sigh# ON WITH THE CHAPTER! Teehee

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#_blah, blah, blah_# speech in Parseltongue  
#blah# random noise  
"_Blah_" spell or accented word  
'_blah_' thoughts  
"blah" speech

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_**>>Tuesday, November 1>>  
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Harry blinked a few times, feeling like a brick was pounding on his head and that he had lost a fight with Ripper, his Aunt Marge's dog; both of which he had experienced many times before. He groaned and winced when it came out of his dry throat as a raspy hiss. His neck, back, and stomach all stung like Voldemort himself was trying to rip a hole through him and then sew him back together again. Harry tried to sit up, but it was far from his current abilities, so he just lay there in the cool morning air. A sticky, damp feeling was quickly spreading beneath his clothes, so Harry figured he was hurt and bleeding pretty badly; not that he could do anything about it at the moment. Luckily, almost half his body was pretty much numb from the coldness and probably shock, but the stinging wind wasn't helping much.

Harry shifted his head slightly so he could see where he was, dreading seeing a black cloaked form, or hearing the swish of a long cloak or robe.

He had appeared on a deserted street. The houses looked very well kept… but the nearest of them was at least 150 yards in either direction. He was in front of a house that was pretty much destroyed fairly recently. It looked like it had been destroyed by fire, but most of it was repaired, or being worked on. The strange thing was, Harry felt like he had been there before, but it was hard to think with all the pounding in his head.

A heavy fog, appearing with a sudden lower temperature, suddenly obscured his vision, but he already knew there was a person walking towards him, hurrying along at a reckless pace in spite or perhaps because of the thick fog. Harry heard a soft thump and then a wooden clunk, a soft thump and then a wooden clunk. The man, Harry figured it was from the broad-shouldered profile, was walking towards Harry, limping steadily as he made a bee line towards where Harry lay.

#Thump#

Harry tried to move his hands to see if he could manage to touch the familiar wooden handle of his wand, but it was nowhere he could tell.

#Clunk#

Panic threatened to take control of him, not that it would do much good to him to have an adrenaline rush because he was defenseless anyways.

#Thump#

He swallowed the moisture building up in his mouth.

'_Have I come this far just to be killed by some random guy… just after having killed the Dark Lord Himself_?'

The footsteps stopped. Harry peered up, but the man's face was shadowed by the bright street lamps behind his head. Harry, for a split, heart-stopping moment, thought he saw a chunk missing out of the man's nose, but his vision darkened as the man bent over to study him. Harry was unconscious by the time he heard the man voice his astonishment at Harry's beaten and bloody appearance.

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Draco sat in the infirmary for what seemed like only a fairly short time before he noticed the only person left in this world that cared for him sitting directly across from him.

Draco wanted to close his eyes and try to get rid of the morbid thought, but _his_ blank, dead eyes always stared back at him, somehow accusingly, whenever he closed his eyes. It was worse than any nightmare he had ever suffered through. Not to mention it had been the last thing he had ever imagined would happen. He figured that he would die by his father's hand the whole time, not be saved by one of the men he hated more than anything. Draco hadn't been sure he _wanted_ to live through the final battle. He had almost welcomed it, just to escape the plague of traitorous nightmares.

It was the first time he had ever disobeyed his father outright… he had hoped he might not have to live through the memories that always became his companions when he even thought of disobeying his father.

Draco felt a hand touch his shoulder, so he slowly, unconsciously without blinking, looked up into the sallow face and inky black eyes of his godfather, the only one left in this world he could trust. Snape pursed his lips, '_probably at the state of my appearance_,' Draco thinks humorlessly.

He had been chewed out more than once by his godfather when he was making Slytherin look bad somehow. Despite what people thought, the ex-Potion's master didn't favor him as much as everyone thought. Yeah, they put up a good façade that he was indeterminately favored by the man, but it only went so far. He actually, Snape had once told him after one such reprimand, barely got better grades than Potter most the time. Now _that_ was one of the times he really loved his godfather. He always made sure to refrain from tarnishing his appearance in front of others. Unfortunately that came with the price of it being a worse dressing down than it would have been in public.

"Draco… You have been sitting there, not blinking I might add, for the past 2 hours staring at me. You know very well that I would be the last to admit this, but it certainly gets unnerving after a while…"

Draco blinked once and heard Snape reply, "Good, now we'll work on the speak command." Draco looked down at the cream colored linen bed sheets and started picking at one of the threads that was starting to come loose. He heard a sigh.

"Draco… I don't really know why you are so upset… it isn't like you hadn't plotted his death a million times before…" That earned him a glare.

"Yes, but that would have been by my own hand, most likely in a proper duel… I would finally prove how inept _he_ really was… Never in a million years did I think he would ever do something so damn reckless… the stupid git…" he added in a mutter. He stayed quiet for a few precious moments longer before he finally exploded.

"He didn't even bloody think that _I_ would be the one to take the blame for his death. He just _had _to be the damn savior. No one dies on Saint _fucking _Potter's watch," Draco yelled in a shrill, mocking voice. Then he lowered it in sarcasm. "Except of course, _himself_…" He raised his voice again. "I hate that filthy-"

"That's enough, Draco… you know full well that you owe your life to Potter… it is an ill omen to mock the dead," Professor Snape interrupted. He looked like he would have wanted to hear what Draco had to say, but he was wincing, most likely from his own headache.

Both of them looked up at the a distant click, click, click of someone's heels on the hard polished stone of the infirmary so Severus quickly retreated back into the bed across from Draco's and easily slipped into the veneer that he had been there the whole time. Madame Pomfrey bustled into view just as he was fluffing the pillow beneath him to a comfortable position with his elbow on his good arm.

She gave him an accusing glare, but then grabbed a bottle of something green off of her desk and strode over to Draco's bed. She poured a heaping spoonful into a glass and then added a few drops of essence of giant ragweed, another unfamiliar, strangely tart-smelling herb, and a bit of lemon balm leaf-tea. She shoved a few small, pinnately divided bright green leaves into his hand. Draco stuck them in his mouth, already knowing what they were, and started chewing them. Almost immediately after the thin juices slid down his throat, his headache started to let up a bit and he started to feel a bit drowsy. With a bit of a groan, he spit out the leaves into an empty cup and then downed the foul-smelling tonic and then fell backwards onto his pillow, his eyes closed.

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Stephen Williamson, an Unspeakable for ten odd years, had seen many miraculous things in his lifetime. He had seen many miracles doing his job, but unfortunately, being what he was, he could never tell the world about them. The only thing in the Department of Mysteries that he knew next to nothing about was the Defunct Curtain. He was supposed to be the expert of experts for the various weapons that they had recovered from the first war with Voldemort, but not even he had cracked the story of the mysterious curtain. Every time he passed by it, he heard the voices from inside it, taunting him but not once revealing its secrets to the outside world. Only those who had passed through the curtain itself knew what it held.

His job in the mornings, as he came in at around five, or at the latest, half past, was to make the rounds, making sure nothing was missing or out of place. Some of the objects held within the rooms of the Department of Mysteries were deadly enough that Voldemort would want them back. Or at least not want them in the hands of the Ministry. Every time he thought about that night, already two years back, he shuddered. Being one of the ones to have chased Voldemort out of the building, he had seen the ugly bastard's face. The taunt, sallow skin still haunted him at night, making his old nightmares caused by his job seem like child's play compared to the horrific things seen while he was in the same dream.

Rounding the corner to enter the spinning room again, Stephen spun around in place as the rooms changed around him. He called out the name of the second to last room he had yet to check, and then watched as the door to the room swung open. A pale, trembling, thin hand reached out to him as soon as the door opened wide enough and he near screamed at the gaunt face of the 4-year fugitive (now ex-fugitive) standing before him. It took him a minute to remember that the man had fallen through the veil, and was supposed to be dead.

"Please, take me to Dumbledore." Black called out, his voice scratchy and hoarse.

"Wha-… I… Well… Dumbledore… he's… err…" he stumbled over how to tell the man. Black's eyes flashed dangerously.

"Damnit! I need to see him now!"

"Well, he… he's dead… about a year and a half past." Black's eyes widened, the whites showing all the way around his pupils.

"He… are you sure?" he questioned. Black trembled, either from exhaustion or shock, the stress showing in his eyes. He slumped onto the doorframe, gritting his teeth. "What about my godson. Is Harry alright? And Remus? How did Dumbledore die!" Black rolled questions off his tongue as they occurred to him. His voice wavered and his lips tightened. "Just how long was I stuck in there?" He finally stopped, either to catch his breath of because he had finally ran out of questions. It looked to Stephen, as though exhaustion was finally sinking in.

Before Stephen could answer, the man suddenly stumbled and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Stephen just barely caught him as he slumped to the floor. He gently lowered Black to the floor and then muttered, "_Mobilicorpus,_" and left the Department in a fast stride, Black's unconscious form bobbing along right behind.

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_**>>Wednesday, November 2>>  
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Harsh voices stole Draco from his deep slumber. Not even the fading effects of the previous night's potion could completely shut them out, but unfortunately, as the sleep aide potion wore off, so did the pain killers. He winced as the voices grew louder, a sharp pounding threatening to split his head wide open. He tried to focus on what they were saying, but it was proving very difficult to accomplish, though he did catch little bits and pieces.

"How do we know… Dumbledore, you… killed him himself and then framed…" It was definitely enough to guess who the whole shouting match was about. He wasn't exactly sure who the first voice belonged to, but he knew who the next voice belonged to, for certain. Though, it was almost impossible to catch the first's answer.

"I realize… he wouldn't have stayed… father… just as…" There was a noticeable pause. Then the other person exploded again. He could have heard the rest of the conversation, had his head not suddenly erupted in a painful headache from his attempt to sit up, the full fury of what he would have had to have tried to sleep with had he not taken feverfew earlier.

"Merlin, who hit me with a bloody hatchet?" he muttered darkly. Severus must have heard the remark because he heard a low chuckle from somewhere across the room before he was mauled by a pair of long, skinny arms, a horrid pug face attached somewhere above.

Somehow, above the squeals of "Dracy," he heard Madam Pomfrey's shrill voice telling Pansy off for jumping onto her patient. The nurse's voice jolted Draco back to the present and he remembered exactly why he was here. Nausea threatened to overcome his lead-filled stomach. He felt arms try and finally succeed at prying Pansy's arms from around his neck and then he was able to breath again. He clutched at the blankets covering his legs and chest, trying to slow his racing heart '_less I have a sodding heart attack_,' he thought grimly.

"Who in their right mind let her in here?" he spat, grinding his teeth in annoyance. He didn't realize just how close she still was to his bed, but her voice was, if possible, even shriller than previously, effectively drowning out the yelling that had originally woke him. He tried to sit up again but she was so close to him that she was half on the bed; and sitting up would mean that he would have to touch her again to push her out of the way.

"But you know I was just making sure you were okay, Dracy!" Draco pulled his pillow out from under himself and tried to smother her voice out but she got even louder when she thought he couldn't hear her.

"I mean, after all Draco, you did just almost get killed because of that incompetent prick (1), Pot-" Before she could finish her sentence, Draco threw off the pillow and backhanded her. She stumbled backwards and fell to the floor, the resounding thump still echoing through the informatory. Her shock was soon evenly matched by Draco's. '_Nice contact… wait… I clouted her for insulting him_… why?'

No one in the room moved an inch. The silence was deafening as Draco stared down at her. Her bottom lip trembled, showing her misery to anyone in the room, but the wrath in her vengeful glare was apparent to Draco, the only one staring her directly in the eye. He met her gaze coolly, his jaw set firmly.

"You just wouldn't shut up…" He shrugged nonchalantly but his mind was still racing. '_What in the blue fuck is going on with me_?'

Finally Madam Pomfrey ended the shocked silence by grabbing Pansy by the arm and manhandling her out of the infirmary. Draco's eyes followed her as she left the room and received a shock when two people suddenly caught his attention.

Dumbledore and a large man with a grey-streaked mane-like tangle of hair had apparently seen the exchange just as they entered the room, for they were standing just inside the doorway as the nurse and Pansy left. Draco realized just who the man was, he had only seen him once, and even then only from afar, but Scrimgeour wasn't exactly the kind of man that you'd forget.

"Good morning," Scrimgeour stated shortly in greeting. A cold chill washed down Draco's spine as he stared at the large man. The hairs stood up on his neck while he watched Scrimgeour study him. After looking him over, head to toe, the corners of his mouth turned up in what Draco guessed was supposed to be a disarming, friendly smile. All it did was make him more suspicious.

"So…" Draco drawled in his usual tone. He briefly saw Dumbledore's eyebrow rise, but he ignored it and focused on Scrimgeour. "What brings you to my bedside at," Draco glanced at the old grandfather clock near the door to Madam Pomfrey's office, "five in the morning?" He tried to mock his father's straight posture unconsciously, but realized what he was doing and slumped back into the bed, feeling slightly muffed. (2)

"My name is Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class… and so on and so forth. I believe it is a tad early to be formal enough to rattle all of them off."

Scrimgeour smirked familiarly and then held out his hand to shake Draco's. He didn't move. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he lowered his hand and his smile broadened uncomfortably. "You are very insubordinate, young man."

'_Does he even know who I am_?' he thought wearily.

"It surprises me that your father didn't teach you how to address your superiors," he continued smoothly.

'_I highly doubt he would make that remark if he knew about my father being who he is…_'

"Too bad… I just wanted to come here to wish you a swift recovery. We wouldn't want the only living testimony to the death of Mr. Potter," Draco flinched almost, _almost_, unnoticeably, "to die as well, now, would we? Especially since you haven't had time to give any interviews yet." A small muscle twitched in the lower right-hand corner of his mouth as he smiled. It made sense now. They thought Draco had killed… _him_ after _he_ had defeated Voldemort so that Draco would come out clean and smiling; the hero… in _his _place.

"My father did teach me manners… he also tried to get me to be Voldemort's," Scrimegour, to Draco's amazement didn't twitch a muscle, "lapdog."

"Yes, well… there _was_ that small… _unfortunate_ incident at the school that-" Draco cut him off.

"Small?" he croaked, "_SMALL_? You consider that _small_? Then what the fuck did you think when you heard that H-… that _he_ died to save yours and everyone else's asses when _he_ went off alone to fight Voldemort and his dogs! That it was just a skirmish?" Draco's chest was heaving with ire and lack of sufficient air. He sucked in a deep breath before starting again.

"He didn't want anyone with him in the final battle because of bastards like you, telling him that _he_ was the savior of the world and that it was _his _fault in the end that all those people died because he couldn't defeat Voldemort when he was still in sodding diapers! The stupid prat didn't want anyone else to get hurt for his sake!"

His rant, wherever it was coming from, hadn't seemed to phase Scrimegour much, except for a bit of shock (probably just because Draco was yelling at him), but everyone else in the room was silent, staring at him in amazement. Draco glanced at Dumbledore again.

He had a small, tight-lipped smile on his face for a moment before it faded and he put his hand on the minister's shoulder. Scrimegour shrugged it off and took a step closer to Draco's bed, bending towards his face to gaze icily directly into Draco's eyes.

"Don't forget who I am. Your recalcitrance will not come without a price." he hissed. He threw a sharp look at Dumbledore when the professor cleared his throat and smiled, his annoyance finally showing from behind his spectacles.

"Do be more pleasant to my student, Minister. Remember, he is still fairly ill."

Scrimegour straightened and then started talking again in a normal voice. "I shall see you soon, Mr. Malfoy. Maybe by then, you will want to talk civilly. I want to hear directly from your mouth what happened to Mr. Potter…"

With a swish of his robes, He spun on his heel and left as dignified as he could after he had just gotten chewed out by someone a third his age.

Draco blinked a few times as the man's words sank in.

"Sir…" Draco drawled in slight distaste at addressing him as such, "did you tell him exactly who I was before you came in this room?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow again and slowly shook his head. Draco furrowed his eyebrows in concentration and barely noticed that Dumbledore had left the room.

Sighing, Draco noticed that his godfather had disappeared sometime during of after the heated exchange between him and the Minister. Draco felt a bit put out that he wasn't there, but it made his task a bit easier, Draco slowly tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn't support him, so he grabbed the bed as he fell, landing half on/ half off the bed. He gritted his teeth and pulled himself back up onto the bed.

'_Shit…_' He looked around to the bedside table, but his wand wasn't anywhere in sight. '_Guess I'll have to do this the hard way._' Draco put weight on his legs again. This time, though they still felt like jelly, they held.

Making his way down the hall was torture to his unsteady legs but at least he wasn't being mauled by random students this early in the day. Hell, most of the portraits on the walls were still snoozing away happily. Draco's upper lip curled in disgust at one ugly witch who was drooling slightly, a snot bubble slowly forming in her left nostril.

He suddenly felt the floor suddenly lurch and heave upwards. He held his stomach, praying not to vomit, and tried to stay on his feet and he nearly made it but stumbled into a window. He gripped the sill to keep himself upright.

Using the wall for support, he made his way down the hall until an unfamiliar hallway he didn't want to take appeared. He made a clumsy lunge for the next bit of wall but missed and smacked his head on the shoe piece of a suit of armor standing in a notch directly set into the corner as he fell.

"Now why the bloody hell would that tin can be right there? I could have sworn it belongs on the third floor… near that horrendous portrait of the three trolls." He rubbed his hand over the sore spot and then ran it through his hair. He hadn't had the time to reapply any sort of gel or anything, so his bleach blonde locks settled over his eyes as he looked down the hallway from his position on the floor.

_'Never realized my hair was this long…' _Draco huffed in a very un-Malfoy-ish manner as he pulled himself up using the armor for support. He squinted, confused, as he gazed down the long hallway. It wasn't the one he had been in a few seconds ago. It wasn't even on the same floor.

Draco glanced behind me and then had to look up. And up; until he found the face of a familiar wizard glaring at him, his eyes alight in fury.

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It was a whole day before Sirius woke up, mostly because of the toll the veil had taken on his body, but when he finally did wake up the first person he asked for was Harry. The man that had first found him tried to be as helpful as he could but apparently he was having trouble contacting anyone from Hogwarts and no luck contacting Remus Lupin.

"Can't we Floo there? Shouldn't Hogwarts be connected to at least one fire here?" he asked.

"Sorry, but after the incident here about three and a half years ago with the return of Voldemort, when you disappeared into the veil, the school hasn't been open to our use. At least not without prior permission. I'm afraid I have to wait for the owl to return," Stephen explained. Sirius dropped his face into his palms and let out a slow sigh of a mix between anger and annoyance.

'_Why can't anything be easy_?' "That's it… I'm Apparating. Give me my wand," Sirius demanded.

"Number one, you can't Apparate inside Hogwarts; number two, your wand, which I won't give to you because you are much too weak and traumatized to get very far without splinching yourself, is still in the Curtain's room," he stated matter-of-factly. Sirius clenched his jaw in an extreme effort not to punch the man and 'borrow' _his_ wand. The man, ever since going to the front desk earlier, had been extremely nervous and was very insistent on keeping Sirius out of sight, which was proving near impossible.

"I need to get there as soon as possible! Can't you understand that?" he roared, emphasizing with hand gestures.

"Sirius, my old friend, I do not think that shouting will be of much help to you," said a sudden voice behind him. Sirius spun around in shock and both of the men stood shocked for a long moment, staring at the face of Dumbledore, who had appeared in the large, cozy fire. "Now, isn't that better?" Smiling wryly, without the usual twinkle, Dumbledore stepped the rest of the way out of the fire and then made a sweeping bow to the two stunned men, both of whom started sputtering at the exact same time. Sirius managed to make it through the first word first.

"Williamson told me you were dead!" he started and then shook his head. "Never mind that. You're alive and that's what counts. How is Harry? And Remus? Are you going to take me back to Hogwarts right now? What about Voldemort? What became of him?" Dumbledore had to finally hold up his hand to stop the onslaught of questions and to stop Sirius from pacing a hole through the carpeting.

"I shall answer all of your questions when we arrive at Hogwarts. Remus should be there by now and the rest of the Order shall be arriving within a few hours. There are many things I am afraid I must inform you of… oh and, of course, Mr. Williamson… would you come here please?"

Sirius looked over at the short man. He had looked pale ever since Dumbledore had shown up and now was trembling head to toe.

"Y-yes s-sir." Dumbledore bent over to see him at eye level and looked at him over the top of his half moon spectacles as he approached.

"Now, as you probably realize… I am a very busy man-," Williamson nodded quickly, his ponytail bobbing up and down. "- and it would be a shame if word of my reappearance got out before I was on top of things. Work builds up quite quickly when you are dead for a year and a half." Williamson opened his mouth to argue but was cut short by Dumbledore holding up his hand again. "I will not inform anyone of your role in Sirius's return and I will reappear officially in a few day's time, deal?"

Dumbledore didn't even wait for the stunned man's reply before straightening and striding back to the fire. Sirius looked back at the man and then went to Dumbledore's side, waiting for him to pull out his Floo powder and throw it in the fire, but Dumbledore didn't move, just looked at Sirius curiously.

"Aren't we forgetting something?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and tapping his wand on his temple. Sirius blinked once and then grinned sheepishly, making Dumbledore smile (a bit wryly in Sirius's opinion) and then wave his wand. "Accio," he called. Moments later Sirius's wand floated through the cracked doorway and into Sirius's hand. Both men disappeared into the fire after saying "Hogwarts."

As soon as they stepped out of the fire, Sirius heard a strangled yelp and a clatter like a heavy chair falling over. He turned to see what the noise was all about and then saw Remus standing still, an overturned chair next to him. His face was completely white, 'like he had just seen a…' Sirius cut his thought short, not finishing the pointless statement. 'Yeah… last time he saw me I was falling through the damn veil.'

Sirius gave him a kind of crooked smile as if to say 'who else did you expect?'

"What can I say? I guess I am not as easy to get rid of as you thought," Sirius joked. Remus looked, if possible, even paler when Sirius spoke, as if he had been trying to convince himself that he was just going crazy. "What? No hug?" He asked, casually holding his arms outspread.

The statement apparently brought Remus to his senses because he grinned suddenly and then strode over to Sirius and gave him a huge bear hug.

Remus let go and took a step back, taking a shuddering breath and wiping the corner of his eye, still grinning heartily.

"Professor Dumbledore" Sirius started, "where's Harry? I need to see him… you know; make sure he is okay. I'd bet anything he hasn't had it easy thinking me to be… dead…" Sirius trailed off when he saw the stricken look that flashed across Remus's face. He turned so he was facing Dumbledore squarely. "Did something happen while I was gone?" he asked quietly, feeling goose bumps raise along his arms.

Dumbledore, in a matter of a few moments, had transformed from a powerful wizard into an old, gray-haired man, the wrinkles on his brow deepening past the point he had ever seen them. The light seemed to have gone out in his eyes the moment Sirius had mentioned his godson.

"Merlin… tell me. Right now… If something has happened I need to know!" he pleaded. Dumbledore sighed and then sat down behind his desk, moving slowly.

"Voldemort is now dead," he started out. Sirius jerked his head in surprise.

"You're sure?" Dumbledore nodded and then continued.

"He was killed yesterday morning; the same time as the veil released you. Apparently the veil was keyed to Voldemort's power signature and when he was killed, the veil's power failed and released you. Harry… he was the one that defeated and killed Voldemort… all by himself, but… Sirius…" Dumbledore's voice told it all. Sirius's jaw went slack and his shoulders slumped before Dumbledore even voiced it. "Harry is dead." He paused and then added "Lucius Malfoy killed him and then vanished."

Sirius's knees buckled as he sank to the floor. Still sitting upright, he buried his face in his hands. After a moment he moved his hands and ran them back through his hair. His face, slack one moment, radically hardened to rage.

"No! I can't believe he would be that reckless!" yelled Sirius, his voice hoarse. Remus, his eyes haunted, remained silent as Sirius ranted, too choked up to speak. Typically, it was right then that Snape decided to intrude through the doorway.

He took the sight in with glance and firmly stated, "We didn't even know he was gone until the next morning." Sirius slowly rose and turned to face him.

"He took off in the middle of the night. Voldemort had taken Granger and Weasley captive and sent a ransom letter. You really think he would have sat back and watched as we took everything into our own hands? I thought you knew him better than that," he sneered.

"The question is, how could you have lost track of him!" Sirius retorted, clenching his fingers like he was itching to get them around Snape's throat, then quickly turned back to Dumbledore. "You know very well about him and his damn hero tendencies!" Dumbledore rested his chin on his clasped hands and then shifted them to rub his temples wearily. "How could you even let him see the letter let alone leave him alone for any amount of time after something like that?"

"That's enough Sirius… He intercepted the note before it made its way to my hands and he never showed it to us. He took the Portkey to the graveyard where Voldemort was resurrected; alone." Dumbledore's voice changed centesimally, adding a sense of awe to his voice as he went on. "He battled Voldemort and his Death Eaters with the help of only one, unexpected person. Draco… Draco Malfoy." Dumbledore paused. "Harry saved Draco's life, Sirius… he died in the process." Sirius's eyes narrowed.

"What are you talking about? Harry would never save that slimy son-of-a-git at the cost of his own. That's… there is absolutely no way."

"Actually it's true…" Remus confirmed wearily and then added "Sirius," after a moment's hesitation. The sound of him finally speaking up made goose bumps form on Sirius's arms and he walked over to the fireplace again, rubbing his arms. "If there had been any opportunity for Harry to save anyone at any time, you know very well that Harry wouldn't hesitate." Sirius shook his head slowly, still processing it all. He needed some space. Some quiet place to think.

"I need some time alone. I'll be back in a few hours," Sirius stated and then strode out of the room headed toward the Room, not bothering to wait for a reply.

This was not the welcome home he had been thinking of.

>>>->>>->>>

Hands pulled Draco upright. He couldn't see the face of the wizard anymore, but he could still feel the smoldering glare of the man pulling him to his feet.

"What do you think you are doing?" Draco snapped. The second Draco was balanced, he let go of him and stood back.

"You're the one that's out of bed. Harry died for you… (Draco flinched) You should at least be responsible enough to wait until you're healed before you go gallivanting off on your own accord. You should be grateful. I sure as hell don't understand why he did it…" Black trailed off. Draco, for the first time since he could remember ever doing, didn't meet his eyes.

Then, Black wearily sunk to the floor, crossed his legs, put his head in his hands, and, to Draco's complete astonishment, apologized.

"I just don't know what to think anymore. I thought I was never going to see him again because of being trapped in the veil, which your bastard of a father probably told you all about," he spat. It didn't feel like it was an insult directed towards Draco himself, so he stayed silent, studying the wreck of a man before him. He actually felt sorry for him.

Draco blinked. '_What the hell is with me… two days ago I couldn't have cared less if something like this had happened… Damn _him_… he made me go soft…_' Draco blew out of his mouth heavily and decided not to leave just yet.

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>>>->>>->>>

* * *

(1) I looked up prick on my dictionary thing… and these were the two results I got for the second meaning: _1.) taboo term: a taboo term for a penis. 2.) taboo term: a taboo term for a man regarded as pathetically inadequate or unpleasant. _Hmm…I wonder which she meant or if she meant one meaning to regard the other as well… teehee… lol

(2) Sorry if that statement came out wrong… I just meant that he felt like he had botched trying to keep from his father's habits, aka not thinking about him.

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**Acknowledgements:  
**>>>->>>->>>->>>->>>->>>  
(From prequel)

**themauraudersaremine: **#ducks the sharp flying objects# … lmao… teehee… I dunno how you are supposed to type… but you _did_ manage it… hmm… #sits on thinking rock and ponders for three days straight# hmm… I think the answer is that you never did give me the keyboard because you can't shove it through the phone line… hmm… I _think_… anyways… lol… I feel sorry for Lucius if you ever got your hands on him… #wince# and yeah it was a cheap shot from Malfoy wasn't it… lol… but at least he hasn't actually killed Harry… #grins evilly# …yet… Muah hah hah hah hah hah!


	2. Tattoos & Scars

**Chapter 2: Tattoos & Scars**

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**Summary:** Main Story after 'Sacrifice Myself For You'. After Harry died, Draco set off to find his missing father, but what he finds first, might save him from his own intentions. Setting: 2 years after 6th book. Main pair: HP'DM. some: RW'HG. possible: RL'SB.

**Disclaimer: **My parents are the ones that buy me everything I own cuz I don't have a bloody job… #tear# and they won't buy me my own Draco, Ron, OR Harry… Parents suck like that…

**Warnings:** Slash (aka male/male pairings); no like, no read… and if you don't care for my choice of subjects to write about, then 'eff you sir, 'eff you in the bunghole… (credited to Robbie & Brynn). Gore, bad language and characters being IN character (for the most part, yet as they will, characters will change depending on events that happen) will appear in abundance throughout this whole story, so again, if you don't approve, then I will gladly offer my ass to thee for thou to KISS! (if you need a translation then I feel sorry for you…) Also, if you haven't read up to the 6th book, there ARE spoilers, too.

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**A/N:** These chapters will be long but will take a while to get posted… partially my fault cuz I am currently suffering from writer's block… partially cuz I am back in school… and mostly cuz I am dense #sigh# Any suggestions will be welcomed with open arms… well… mostly… and if you think I should change the title AND have a suggestion, then I will consider it… umm… I think that's it… XD

Sorry, but this is my first slashie… please tell me, peoples, if I get OOC… I will try to fix it (if you tell me about it first)… And if I get the phrases wrong, sorry… I am an American… don't blame me, blame my parents #grin#…

* * *

Jeez… I talk too much before chapters… #sigh# ON WITH THE CHAPTER! Teehee 

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#_blah, blah, blah_# speech in Parseltongue

#blah# random noise

"_Blah_" spell or accented word

'_blah_' thoughts

"blah" speech

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* * *

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_**>> Wednesday,November 2 >>  
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When Black didn't stir for a good five minutes after his tirade, Draco left him to his own devices. He felt a bit better, but was still confused as to how he got to the third floor. He walked by the ugly portrait of the Trolls and kept going down the hall. As he rounded a corner, he noticed another, exact duplicate of the Troll painting.

"What the hell?" he muttered. '_We don't have any duplicates in this building because the people in them would have fits if there were more than just one of them in the castle… so why is there two identical troll portraits?_' Draco shook his head and then headed down the hall in the same direction again, looking for the staircase at the end of the hall that lead downstairs.

He followed the hall the only route he could and then, to his amazement, he saw the painting again. The exact same one. The exact same trolls snoring in the exact same spots. But this time, there was a door directly on the other side of the painting… and it was slowly creeping open.

"So there must be duplicates of it… otherwise there wouldn't have been a door this last time by it."

Draco stuck his head through the door after it halted to a stop, wide open. The entire room was furnished comfortably in red and there was a large, maroon, overstuffed couch sitting in front of a cold fireplace. As soon as Draco stepped into the room he felt a chilly draft from the open window on the far wall of the room. The rest of the walls were covered in shelves upon shelves of books; mostly about defense, counters, and offensive spells. A pile of open, stacked books lying on a coffee table caught his eye so he flipped through the topmost book.

It looked fairly old, with tattered pages and a few rips and tears from use. '_In worse condition than what would be in the school library. Even worse than some of the old ones at home._' He glanced through the pages at some of the spells. Not much was above beginner's level in the beginning but it was more advanced near the back. He flipped through another few pages '_Dismentia_' (would displace the noise caused by a spell or something else and make it sound like it came from another place). The book directly underneath it had '_Noloportus_' (for an untraceable Portkey), '_Tartemsempra_' (for breathing fire), and '_Hydro Hoxymus_' (for freezing water) on one page and on the next, ripped page, had a rare spell that Draco had only heard of in passing from his father.

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_**>> Tuesday, November 15 >>  
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The blinding light was the first thing Harry noticed as he slowly tried to pry his eyes open. He tried not to make any noise because he had no clue where he was. He tried blinking a few times, but the light was too bright for him. '_Must be facing a window…_' He gingerly raised his right hand and slid it over on top of his face, to block out the piercing white-hot light. Harry tried to take a few deep breaths and realized the reason he couldn't breathe very well was because he was piled under what felt like a few dozen lead-lined, thick blankets.

'_At least the bed's soft…_' Harry noticed. It was the one luxury. He tried to twist his head so that the sun wasn't shining directly into his eyes, but a flash of pain brought more sweat to his face. He felt a pull on his neck too, like a huge piece of tape was holding his skin together right there. He took his hand from his face to feel what was there and felt a large bandage over part of his neck. Harry's eyes shot open.

'_So that's what happened…_' he thought, remembering the man from before he passed out. Then he remembered who he thought it may have been. '_Shit… If it is Mad-Eye… he's gonna turn me over to Dumbledore as soon as I… no… Dumbledore must already know…_' Harry opened his eyes a slit and was greeted by the ugliest room he had ever seen. '_Well… second ugliest… Dudley's only beats it because of the clutter and all of the broken crap, though…_'

The dark green walls (with black trim) were dotted with multiple water stains and looked to have not seen a feather duster or a bit of cleaning supplies for at least a decade or two. Whoever had designed the room had apparently tried to accent the color of the walls with the drapes, but the shade had turned a sickly color of pea green and the carpet, from what Harry could see of it, was also the color of vomit. And extremely plush. Harry looked for a door and saw that it was a blood red wood, but was splattered with spots that made it look as though it was actually bleeding. He winced for every person that ever had to live with this room like it was.

Harry started to look around the rest of the room, but he couldn't see much more of it without sitting up. Harry tried to prop himself up onto his left elbow, but a sharp pain from the middle of his back and his stomach simultaneously erupted in pain. He bit back a scream of pain and fell back onto his bed, which, had the bed not been impossibly soft, would have made him pass out from the pain of landing on whatever was aching so badly.

Apparently his scream had been louder than he had thought, because he heard a loud scraping that sounded like a chair being hurriedly scooted backwards and then he heard a thud as something crashed to the floor. He heard the unmistakable sound of a key being turned in the keyhole and then saw the doorknob turning and Harry, fully expecting Dumbledore or someone he knew, was surprised by the man that finally rushed through the door.

He looked no older than thirty, but he already had a small assortment of scars, the worst one being his missing leg. '_That's probably why I thought it was Moody…_'

The man almost slid and fell trying to stop on the thick carpet when he saw that Harry was awake, but he managed to catch himself on the bedside table, which was a beautiful mahogany, the resin exhibiting the true colors of the wood beautifully- easily making it the only decent thing in the room- and also completely out of place.

'_Come to think of it, all of the woodwork in this room is awe-inspiring._'

"Yeh've finally come awake then?" the man asked anxiously. Harry blinked a few times before he nodded. "Can yeh move yer toes n' everything alrigh'?" he added. For some reason, the man sounded quite nervous, but it was only a passing thought as Harry swallowed the sudden terror that he might have done serious damage during the battle to his spine. The man sounded a sigh of release at the exact same time as Harry when they both saw Harry's leg twitch and then a couple of his toes wiggle from underneath the covers. Harry relaxed his neck muscles and let the soft pillow catch his head. From the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw a strange look on his face, but it quickly melted into a bright smile.

"Yeh'll probly be wantin' something to eat now wo-" Harry cut him off with a loud bout of coughing, so he handed Harry a glass of water. He nodded his appreciation and then downed half of it, wetting his parched throat. He cleared his throat and then smiled tight-lipped. His back still was aching and he could now feel a sharp pain coming from his chest area. The skin felt tight, not unlike how the bandage on his neck felt when he first woke up.

"I-" trying to talk spurred another bout of coughing, but the man waited patiently until it subsided. Harry tried again. "I really don't think I could keep anything down yet…" He gave a weak smile and the man nodded briskly before realizing why Harry was wincing.

"Is yer back or anything hurting?" he prodded gently. Harry nodded again and the man gave him a lopsided grin. "Sorry bout that… Umm… By the by… Did ya realize… Yeh talk quite loudly in yer sleep?" he added, sounding slightly anxious. Harry nodded.

"Yeah… I've done that for a few years now…" he chuckled lightly, but the laugh ended as a sharp stabbing ache near his ribs made him clench his teeth tightly to not cry out in pain. A cool drip of liquid followed by a cold cloth was placed on his forehead and then he felt the cover being lifted off of his body. A cold breeze across his skin made him realize, with an uncomfortable jolt, that he was completely nude under the covers. The man was pulling them off him, in the meantime, but he stopped folding them down at his waist. Harry looked down his nose at his stomach, propping his head against the wall so he didn't have to keep his head up, and watched as the man checked to see if he was bleeding through the bandages covering a large area on his chest.

"Looks like yer fine… but… there ain't much I can do for them…" the man admitted cautiously. Harry almost shot straight up in the bed, but his wounds reminded him not to.

'_Is this guy even a wizard?_' If he wasn't, Harry was mostly safe from being found by any remaining Death Eaters (unless they had a tracking spell attached to him- which he didn't see how they could if the spell he had cast had worked properly-). If he _was_ a wizard, he'd have to be careful about what he said so the guy didn't figure out who he really was. '_But if he was just some random person, he would have taken me to a hospital… so then why am I still here? Even if I had been a Muggle and he had taken me to a wizard hospital, they could have erased my memory about the hospital…_'

Harry watched as the man made sure the bandages were snug and then he slowly slid the covers up over Harry's thin stomach and chest, taking his time tucking them around his shoulders and then smoothing out the wrinkles with his hands. Harry wasn't so sure he wanted the man's medical attention anymore.

"Um… I don't suppose you could get a few of these blankets off me could you? They feel like they're made of lead," Harry added jokingly, trying not to laugh to add effect. The guy was actually making him kind of nervous. The man peeled the topmost one off and immediately Harry felt cooler.

"Sorry bou' that. Yeh've had a fever fer quite a while now. It only jus' broke this morn' an' it's 5 in th' afternoon alrea'y." Harry blinked in horror.

"How long have I been unconscious?" he asked anxiously. The man hesitated and looked down, extremely nervous suddenly. He shifted on his feet and then answered.

"Yeh've been out fer abou' two weeks now…" he said, making Harry's jaw drop reflexively.

"Two weeks?" he echoed softly. "Two weeks? How the bloody hell did I stay out for two whole weeks?" Harry tried to keep his voice down but the shock had thrown him for a bit of a loop. A flash of angry annoyance from the other man caught his eye but it was gone as soon as Harry thought he glimpsed it and is replaced by pure concern radiating from the man.

'_Why am I being so suspicious of the guy? He hasn't done anything that I should truly be concerned about…_' The unthought 'yet,' echoing in his head, brought about a question he hadn't considered previously.

"Umm… sir… wh-"

"Hale… Hale Callahan," he told Harry impulsively.

"Mr. Callahan," Harry amended, "where exactly am I right now?" The man's lips tightened, again looking annoyed, but again it was gone as soon as he had seen it.

"Have yeh ever heard of th' Riddle family?" Harry automatically flinched, knowing that Riddle was the name Lord Voldemort went by during his school years at Hogwarts, and he immediately regretted it. Hale's face lit up in a sly grin and then he sat on Harry's bedside, hands in lap.

"Yes… I figured you would," he replied to Harry's reaction, dropping a now-obvious fake accent. "We are at his old residence. I'm fairly sure you've been here before… on your journeys with the famed Professor Dumbledore… Mr. Harry Potter," he drawled out slowly, no trace of the accent or nervousness from earlier.

Harry tried mentally calling for his wand, this time feeling for the magical vibrations of the phoenix tail feather core on purpose, and was stunned when no response came back. Hale held up the wand he had moments before, tried to sense and call for. Harry's eyes widened in alarm.

It had been broken in two, and the core stripped from the inside of the wood.

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**>>One Year, 10 Months, 21 Days Later >>  
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_**>>> Friday,September 19>>>  
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"Well _that_ helped a whole hell of a lot," Draco groaned. He had just finished up his reports for investigating another false trail to his father when a few dozen more reports came swooping in, dropping onto his desk. He had been planning on taking a short break but if he did now, he wouldn't be able to finish by the time his shift was over. Desk jobs sucked.

"Chin up, Draco," Kingsley Shacklebolt told him in his deep slow voice. The light overhead glinted off both his single gold loop earring and his bald, black head. Draco sighed and shifted in his seat as the tall wizard continued in what Draco figured was going to be his usual lecture about how Draco had to go through the same things that others had gone through before they actually went out to work directly on cases. "You'll be out on the streets in a week. Be thankful that I think you are ready, but believe me when I say that you are going to miss the desk." Draco blinked in surprise.

'_Now that's a change. I thought he said I needed about…_' Draco cut himself off when he realized it had already been almost half a year behind the desk. '_Merlin… he must be starting me early… I can't believe I've been an Auror this long already._'

"You mean I get to work hands on soon?" he asked eagerly out loud. Shacklebolt was his mentor but he was also going to be his partner when he finally got to leave the paperwork behind. Being the youngest Auror in history was having fairly good perks so far.

"Yes, but you have to have supervision for the first few months, to keep you from getting killed," he chuckled. "Don't want to loose you this far into it, my friend." Draco laughed.

"Friend maybe, protégé definitely," Draco retorted good-naturedly. Shacklebolt laughed and then clapped him on the back and almost knocked him off his chair. His shoulders were still shaking with mirth as he strode down the narrow hall from Draco's cubicle. '_You'd think wizards would be able to expand this place a little bit,_' Draco thought, straightening and running his hand through his semi-long, loose hair. The potions and gels he used to use were a thing of the long time past, but he couldn't wait until it was long enough that it wouldn't be a nuisance and he could put it back in a pony-tail at the nape of his neck and not have it looking feminine.

Sighing, he settled himself down into his chair again and started on the newest reports. He knew his every informant by name, picture, power level, address, work place, friends; everything. No one slipped by him and he had to know it. Draco had to push back the sudden wave of anticipation, tinged with fear and dread that washed over him. '_One week,_' he thought to himself, '_then I can get that bastard for what he put me and Mum through all those years._'

With renewed vigor, he delved deep into his reports and finished them in record time, making sure to file everything straight and perfect before finally turning in his file to the cabinet (which thanked him and wished him a good weekend) and then grabbed his cloak as he rushed out the door and through the fireplace to his flat.

Upon entering, he noticed that the usual greeting of yells and challenges from his owl was unusually subdued today, as if Aquila (1) had sensed that he would have to behave from now on if Draco was going to take him along on missions. The bird was too smart for it's own good sometimes but it was a damn useful addition when he was on a job. He had an unnatural talent for spotting lies and spells for concealment not to mention he is an excellent judge of character; though it was sometimes hard to tell if it was fondness or distaste that he showed when he nipped someone. A lot of things that came in handy.

Unfortunately, the only reliable invisibility spell he could use on the him was only good if the eagle owl was on his shoulder. It made it a bit hard to maneuver sometimes but it was definitely worth it in the long run, even if the bird was a bloody pest and ill tempered most the time. Draco hadn't yet told his superiors about him, but some aces needed to be kept down his pants(2)… or… whatever the Muggle expression was.

Draco grabbed a bagful of frozen mice out of the freezer and a tall plastic container from the cupboard. He turned on the hot water faucet and let it run for a few seconds until steam was filling up the sink where the water was hitting it and then he filled the container about four fifths of the way up and put two mice in the hot water to thaw. His owl looked at the pitiful frozen mice and glared at him with distaste, ruffling his feathers.

"I know, I know. But one of these days you will get used to the idea that we live in a Muggle building and you can't keep flying in and out of my window all the time to hunt. The coppers will be called and then it'll get ugly. So hush." Aquila turned his head away in mock anger, but eagerly accepted the mice (after nipping Draco and drawing blood) after he had dried the two mice off and they were a bit warmer than room temperature. "Be thankful I don't feed you leftover vegetable soup." Draco smirked when Aquila merely flipped his tail feathers at him, healed over his cut, and then went to his miniature balcony and looked out at the dismal view.

He could see multitudes of men and women who were just now getting off of work and thanked Merlin that they were so self centered that they never realized that he rarely entered his apartment by the front door to get home. Muggles are so unobservant, not that they don't have their few quirks though.

After giving Aquila his second mouse, Draco washed out the plastic container and then placed it back on it's shelf and then went to the main room and flopped down onto the black, over-stuffed couch and reached for the Daily Prophet on the coffee table next to him. There was another article about the 'mysterious' Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore and his lackeys seemed to be making a huge impression lately, but all the public knew was that he was the head of the Order. No one knew who the other members were, which suited everyone in the Order perfectly. He flipped the paper lazily towards the table, missed, and heard a scrambling noise and an annoyed meow. His silver and black tabby Maine Coon Cat, Roan, twitched his ear at Draco and looked at him reproachfully with his bright blue, violet speckled eyes.

"Don't look at me that way. You shouldn't have put your head right there." The cat's gaze never left his so he sighed and said, "Sorry… I guess I am a bit impatient today. I just never thought the day for being able to… er… _legally_ try to find my father using Auror assets would come. It's gotten me a tad bit uptight." Roan jumped up on his stomach and rubbed his forehead against Draco's chin affectionately, kneading his chest with his sharp claws. "If you don't quit I swear u will never have kits!" Draco gritted out from between his teeth. Roan stopped, but still looked smug as he jumped to the floor and stalked away.

"Damn cat…" he muttered. Apparently Roan hadn't heard because he kept walking and disappeared around the corner leading to Draco's bedroom. Draco grinned and then flopped off the couch and onto the plush, cream-colored carpeted floor. He waved his wand and laid there while invisible hands worked the knots out of his back and shoulders. He relaxed for a while and then finally pushed himself off the floor and ran his hands through his hair to make it at least a little bit more presentable.

He pulled off his black and silver robes and then glanced at the clock on the mantle above the fireplace; 8:49 P.M.

'_I guess I get to go bar… hopping…_' Draco sighed. '_Muggles have the strangest phrases._' Unfortunately for Draco, part of his course for being an Auror included Muggles Studies. So he knew how to talk to them on their terms. For the most part. It was tedious. But necessary.

He changed into his Muggle clothes (or at least as Muggle he would go): a black t-shirt with a black, dragon leather jacket, torn blue jeans (he didn't want to look too rich in Muggle terms and invite uninvited pickpockets), and black leather boots; and then headed down the street. The bar where his new informant was supposed to meet him on Monday was about a two hour walk, but it was impossible for him to safely Apparate there, so, not having much Muggle money, he had to walk. Just to make sure he could function properly, he took Aquila along with him, casting the invisibility spell and checking in a mirror to make sure it worked properly.

About ten minutes from his destination, he almost literally ran into an old man standing outside a café. The old man grinned toothlessly at him and then moved on. Draco pulled his coat closer around him, wishing it was a full cloak, and glared at the man's filthy clothes. He kept walking and soon came within sight of the bar. The Tattoos & Scars Pub was open from 11 o'clock in the morning until 3 AM, closing only for the morning hours. It was a place frequented by many shady characters in the earlier hours of the day, but it was very popular with everyone during the day because of the amazing food and selection. The front of the bar was a restaurant and in the later hours of the day, the back was opened up also to accommodate the extra people coming in for the bar's services.

The bar actually had been funded by Draco's own father many, many years ago and had kept flourishing even after the funds from the Malfoys had been reacquired when the Malfoy funds had been frozen with his father's disappearance and his mother's death. The pub had then become a Muggle hangout, but in recent years was used for other purposes.

Taking a small detour to see more of the outside of the bar and it's surrounding buildings, Draco went down a small alleyway that lead to the next street over. He stopped as he felt the weight of his owl leave his shoulder. 'Damn ball of feathers… he knows better than to leave in the middle of the street. The invisibility spell around him only stays if he's touching me…' He turned to find out where Aquila went, but didn't see him on the busy Muggle street. He jogged ahead a little ways, but still couldn't spot him.

Frustrated, he turned to go in the front of the bar that had been his destination. 'Maybe he wanted to hunt or something…' Draco wondered to himself. He stopped when he saw a flurry of the damn owl's wings go around the corner of the building, leading to the back of the bar.

'What now?' Draco rounded the corner and found that someone had discovered his owl before he had. A handsome, black-haired man had Aquila perched on his forearm… _and he was stroking him_! Aquila barely tolerated his own owner, so why the hell would he allow…

Draco practically felt his jaw hit the ground.

The owl, bastard that he was, was _nibbling _the black-haired man's finger… _affectionately_! Draco strode up to the man, and was startled to be looking into brilliant green eyes when he finally noticed Draco standing there, tapping his foot impatiently, arms crossed. The stranger looked like he was about to choke on something foul.

"Who the ruddy hell are you? And what did you do to my owl? Damn bird is never affectionate. He's supposed to be a damn good guard owl and _not_ go kissing up to every good-looking guy he comes across…" Draco blurts out, angrily, not really thinking of how he had worded it. "myself not included…" he added as an after thought to make the awkwardness of the situation dissipate, attempting a small crooked smile. It didn't exactly work. The stranger blinked once, twice, looking distinctly pale (possibly tinged a bit with green), and then finally must have gotten a hold of himself because he finally muttered out a name after a bit of hesitated thought. Rathe Callahan (3).

If that wasn't a fake name then Draco didn't know what was. The stranger had obviously met Draco before, and it didn't look like it had been a pleasant meeting. Strangely enough, even though he was sure he had never met the man before, Draco felt as though he was an old acquaintance that he hadn't seen in a long time or something.

Draco looked the man up and down, trying to see what his bird liked so much about him. Rathe was wearing a faded and torn, tight black shirt (with the American band, Metallica, written on it in shiny silver lettering) with the sleeves cut off and worn, torn, faded blue jeans sporting multiple grease stains. Draco tried not to wince in disgust at the man's ragged appearance. 'And the dust and sweat combined with long hair doesn't help in the least...Yet there is something… I can't pin my finger on it… but something about him seems… I dunno how to explain it…decent I guess.' What really caught Draco's eye, though, was the man's scar.

Yet again, Draco was reminded of someone, but he couldn't remember who exactly it was. The scar was pretty nasty looking. The long, healed gash on the side of his neck looked like it had been really deep when it had been inflicted.

"Sorry… I didn't realize he was yours… Here." Rathe tried to quickly hand Aquila back to Draco, but Aquila would have nothing of the sorts and merely scooted further up onto Rathe's arm, refusing to go back to Draco. Draco gave the owl a death glare, which was duly and doubly returned by the fierce golden eyes. The awkward position Draco had to go into to get the owl onto his shoulder made both of them extremely uncomfortable, but he finally got Aquila to where the only place he could go without falling off was Draco's hand, where Draco promptly grabbed a strong hold on his foot so he couldn't take off and jump back to Rathe. Draco backed away from the man and unconsciously tied a semi-permanent sticking charm from his owl to his shoulder and almost didn't think twice when Aquila walked up to his shoulder and shifted until he was comfortable, though miserably stuck to Draco.

And invisible.

'_Shit…_' Draco had watched his owl until he had settled into the cloaking spell and on his shoulder, but didn't realize until it was too late that he had just unintentionally vanished a rather large owl in front of a Muggle. He continued to curse himself until he realized that, either the man had turned away VERY quickly after Aquila had vanished, or Rathe hadn't noticed that the owl had just disappeared from Draco's shoulder. The man had already busied himself unloading heavy-looking boxes into the back of the bar, so Draco hurriedly took off down the alley and turned the corner to keep the man from noticing the missing owl, not once looking back.

As soon as he entered the dimly lit pub, he heard a new song start up from the jukebox in the corner of the room. He scanned for a seat, but everything was taken, so he sat down at the bar counter instead. Slurred screams from behind him caught Draco's attention for a moment, but he dismissed it as purely fun; non-threatening.

The bartender saw him sit down and made a beeline, seeing his expensive looking jacket, but his smile seemed a bit put out when Draco ordered a double shot of Vodka mixed with Margarita mix and a slice of pineapple (4); nothing fancy.

Draco sipped his drink as he scanned the room for all the exits and extra rooms, tapping his foot in time to the song, "I'll Take That As A Yes," to look like he was waiting for someone. The only exits seemed to be the front door and a possible backdoor through the kitchen to the loading dock. Thetwo heavily-muscled bouncers at the front door and the two on the opposite side of the room were alert and wary, looking very serious now that people were getting off work on a Friday and heading home and to the bars.

There was an upstairs, but all of it was visible from Draco's position in the center of the bar and there was only the one staircase leading to the landing and only one door up there. The bathrooms were on the right as people walked in the front double doors and there were pool tables a dozen or so feet away from where the dining tables ended. It was fairly nice for a pub, though strangely chaste for his father's taste.

'_Though it might've been refurnished when the _Muggles _took it over._'

Draco let his mind wander for a bit and heard the next song, "Ten Rounds With Jose Cuervo," start playing. When he heard the pretty blonde woman next to him ask for whatever Draco was drinking, he listened in on the conversation she was having with the new bartender that had taken over on a new shift. She smiled and said "then she sent me a joke about why you should date hockey players. The last reason given was that baseball players only knew how to hit balls." Draco almost snorted his drink out his nose. The woman must have heard because she cast an amused glance at him and then nearly fell off her barstool.

"Malfoy?" she whispered in an amazed voice. Draco winced and then took a closer look. He still couldn't figure out who it was though. The bartender also looked startled and took a step back, covering it by turning to help another man at the bar, who hadn't even finished his drink yet. Draco noticed (now that he made a closer inspection through the dimness of the bar) that the new bartender was the same man that he had met out back, though the man gave no indication of recognition.

The woman sat back on her barstool, hooking her high heels on the bottom rung of the metal framed stool with a click.

"Oh don't worry your pretty little locks, you don't know who I am," she said when she noticed his blank look. Draco grinned sheepishly.

"Well at least that gets me off the hook for it-" she smiled back at him "-but it still doesn't explain who you are…"

"I'm Rita Skeeter's daughter, Lita. I know pretty much everything she wrote during your years at Hogwarts, but I never got the privilege of talking to you face to face," she rattled off. "She would never let me go to Hogwarts for interviews. So tell me, do you come here often? Better yet, do you have time for a full interview? I can see it now, 'Draco Malfoy Minus the Black Hood; How Did He Escape You Know Who's Grasp?' "

At Draco's horrified looks, she instantly changed from overly excited and inquisitive, to amused, laughing so hard she nearly fell off her stool, though it was a close call. '_I think the heels helped more than she would ever admit though…_'

"Don't worry," she amended, "my mother hasn't imprinted all of her annoying behavior tendencies in me just quite yet." Lita swirled her drink around and took another sip. "Could I get more Vodka in this? Two shots is definitively not enough. I don't see how you can stand something so abstemious (5)," she added, looking at Draco. The bartender looked to have not heard her, so she said it a bit louder. "Sir?" Finally he looked at over his shoulder, looking the part of innocence as he apologized for not hearing her, though it was fairly quiet for the place. Draco noticed that the green-eyed man was pointedly not looking at him, but poured Draco a second drink when he asked for it.

"Well… as much fun it was to finally meet you in person, I must scoot." She finished her drink. Just before giving the bartender his tip, she ate the rest of her slice of pineapple, licking the juices off her fingers in an almost indecent, risqué way, and then winked at Draco in a friendly manner. "See ya later, tiger." Draco gave a short wave and downed the rest of his drink at the same time.

'_At least her presence covered the fact that I had come looking like I was waiting for someone I hadn't met up with._' He waved the bartender over again for his bill and left as "A Good Way To Get On My Bad Side" came on over the jukebox, feeling like the green eyes of the bartender were drilling into the back of his skull, but not wanting to confirm it.

He was nearly mauled by Roan as soon as he put foot through the door to his flat. Roan kept trying to trip him up, yet get him to move faster at the same time by weaving in and out of his legs, yowling like he hadn't eaten in a week.

>>> ---- >>> ---- >>> ---- >>>

Rathe collapsed on the sofa just inside the men's room during his first break of the day and sighed deeply, quickly falling asleep. One of his coworkers, knowing him well, woke him up exactly 28 minutes later, just in time to return to his first job of the day; working at the public library. He worked at the library from 8 in the morning until 5 in the afternoon, then worked at the bar from 5:30pm to half an hour after closing time at 3am. Both of the jobs he worked were only a few hours' walk away from Diagon Alley, strangely enough, but Rathe had neither the balls nor the time to make a trip there. He was pretty much a Squib anyways so it isn't like he would have much of a reason to go there.

He walked behind the front desk and started helping with the long check-out lines.

Rathe had a legal, permanent Portkey that he used to get from his residence to his job at the library, from there to his second job at the Tattoos & Scars Pub, and from there back to the house. He had almost no time that went unaccounted for, so his 'uncle,' also considereda Squib from birth, could keep track of him. He got about four and a half hours of sleep each night (plus the two half hour breaks at each job where he either ate or slept -sometimes both) and the only days he was able to partially sleep in were holidays that he wasn't allowed to put in extra time to his jobs. Not that it was his choice, but he'd rather be tired than take the alternatives.

Once the lines had dwindled, he took a cart of returned books and steered them over to the shelves, putting them back in their places. He walked slowly on his way back to the front desk, scanning the library for any familiar faces, like usual. Luckily, again, there was no one. Then he rounded the corner and ran right into a skinny, bleach-blonde haired man dressed completely in black, finishing with a black hat. For one heart-stopping moment, he thought he had run into Malfoy, but the man grabbed Rathe's hand, pulled him upright and apologized profusely for knocking him over.

'_Definitely not Malfoy_,' Rathe thought to himself, relieved. He stopped and took a closer look. '_Shit_,' he finished.

"Umm… I don't suppose you could…" In his shock he had forgotten he was still holding Malfoy's hand. He dropped it like a hot coal and backed a few steps away. Malfoy gave him a strange look, a bit like he was suspicious, but as soon as he saw the manager of the library, he strode off hurriedly.

Rathe sighed deeply in relief. '_I haven't seen him in almost two years and now I see him twice in less than 24 hours… damn snake's prick…_'

He returned to his job and grabbed another large stack of books. Typically no one had sorted them yet, so he was stuck with it and putting them back on the shelves. '_I really don't need this bullshit_.'

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(1) Aquila (Ah-kee-lah) is the Anglo-Norman word for eagle (kinda like saying Tequila but with a short 'A' instead of a 'Te' 'Teh' sound… lol)

(2) Sorry… couldn't resist #grins#

(3) Rathe pronounced with a long 'a' and silent 'e.'

(4) Vodka and Margarita mix… das shite's good!

(5) 'dry' or 'not indulging in or involving excessive drinking' for you illiterate ppls… lol… actually I got it out of a thesaurus, so don't feel too stupid… teehee

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**Acknowledgements and Answers (A.K.A. thanks for reviewing):**

**themaraudersaremine**: … O.o' Psycho much? Lmao… I'm glad you feel better cuz you will not be happy with Lucius much throughout this story #evil grin# teehee

**yukifunfan1234:** Glad you liked it! does happy hamster dance and accidentally explodes a hamster… er… oops… and question, if you feel like answering, is the Yuki in your SN from FruBa, Gravitation, or something else? Cuz if it is FruBa then… GO KYO! #drools in daydream# Ahh… teh sexyness… XP

**plotbunnybrat:** I'm glad someone thinks that… it makes me feel warm and fuzzy, teehee... thanks for reviewing! #gives cookie to teh plot bunny# #gets mauled by EVIL FLUFFY PINK BUNNY RABBITS#

**Daemon-In-White: (themauradersaremine)** I'm sorry that I don't update as much as I should but believe me when I say that it isn't because of the readers (or lack thereof)… lol… I've got really bad writer's block right now and it is pissing me off… not to mention time and motivation aren't in large supply right now… I have no clue why and it sucks… I am trying though. Thanks for the pep talk though, I really appreciated it #grins and hugs# You (and the fact that I am bored out of my mind and my boyfriend is out of town) are the reason I updated! #hugs#


	3. Draco Malfoy, Stud Pole Dancer

**Chapter 3: Draco Malfoy, Stud Pole Dancer Extraordinaire**

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**Summary:** Main Story after 'Sacrifice Myself For You'. After Harry died, Draco set off to find his missing father, but what he finds first might save him from his own intent for repentance. Setting: 2 years after 6th book. Main pair: Harry Potter ' Draco Malfoy. some: Ron Weasley ' Hermione Granger. possible: Remus Lupin ' Sirius Black.

**Disclaimer: **#looks at Draco, who looks at Harry, who looks at Ron, who looks back at me# … … If I can't have them then nobody will! #ties them up in ropes# MUAH HA HA HA HA HA! #hears a noise outside# (Open up, this is the police!) me: … Aww muther-fudger-nutter! They ALWAYS ruin my fun… #tear#

**Warnings:** Slash (aka male/male pairings); no like, no read… and if you don't care for my choice of subjects to write about, then 'eff you sir, 'eff you in the bunghole… (credited to Robbie & Brynn). Gore, bad language and characters being IN character (for the most part, yet as they will, characters will change depending on events that happen) will appear in abundance throughout this whole story, so again, if you don't approve, then I will gladly offer my ass to thee for thou to KISS! (if you need a translation then I feel sorry for you…) Also, if you haven't read up to the 6th book, there ARE spoilers, too.

**A/N:** These chapters will be long but will take a while to get posted… partially my fault cuz I am currently suffering from writer's block… partially cuz I am back in school… and mostly cuz I am dense #sigh# Any suggestions will be welcomed with open arms… well… mostly… and if you think I should change the title AND have a suggestion, then I will consider it… umm… I think that's it… XD

The last chapter was so damn short because I had a number of complaints about my nonexistent posting of chapters… I guess from now on the chapters will be slightly shorter but hopefully will be updated more often. I hope… lol (a/n: I just got done counting… and the last chapter was actually a few words more than the one before it…making it the longest yet… 8 ½ pages… though I have been aiming for 10 pages per chapter and that is on 10 font #grins# ah well… anything to keep the fans happy!)

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Sorry, but this is my first slashie… please tell me, peoples, if I get too OOC (without good reason -said or not said-)… I will try to fix it (if you tell me about it first)… And if I get the phrases wrong, sorry… I am an American… don't blame me, blame my parents #grin#…

Jeez… I talk too much before chapters… #sigh# ON WITH THE CHAPTER! Teehee

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#_blah, blah, blah_# speech in Parseltongue  
#blah# random noise  
"_Blah_" spell or accented word  
'_blah_' thoughts  
"blah" speech

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_**>>> Monday, September 22 >>>  
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Draco headed in for the early shift at 7 in the morning and was surprised to see the old man that he had bumped into on the way to the bar last Friday sitting at his desk, a toothless grin on his face.

"Draco, m'boy! Great ta see you again!" he slurred. He jumped up and shook Draco's hand ferociously. "Dung is the name, sa. Mundungus Fletcher." Draco looked at him, confused for a second. The old man blinked twice and then waved his wand in front of his face. Where his wand passed over, his face peeled away into the real features of Mundungus. He passed his wand back over his face and the mask went back into place.

"Yeh might remember me but if you'd recall, I sa, am a Phoenumb, sa. I mean of course… ah… ah-hah! A membeh of the Phoe-nilly Oderve… umm… I mean of course, the mmph!" Draco clamped his hand over the man's mouth to shut him up, wincing in utter disgust as he felt the stumps of a few broken teeth grinding into his palm as the old man kept trying to talk.

He waved his wand, silently spelling his voice and took his hand away. Mundungus tried opening and closing his mouth a few times experimentally, but couldn't utter a sound. He glared at Draco, clearly annoyed, and jerked his wand in response. A strange echoing nothingness filled Draco's ears, making him feel like he was in a huge rounded cave. He clamped his hands over his ears and saw that Mundungus was trying to talk to him again, but he couldn't hear him. A look of dawning came over the man and he grinned something that looked as though it was supposed to look sheepish and waved his wand again.

"Okay now… at's better. Sorry about dat. I accidentally included you in the first spell. I swear I didn' mean to!" he protested loudly, holding up his hands in a gesture of apology. He muttered another spell and this time, Draco could still hear afterwards. Unfortunately, Draco knew exactly what the new spell was.

"What are you doing here? And do you realize that there are dark spell indicators put up around this whole building for about 5 miles in any direction? Someone will sooner than later notice the Muffilato spell that you just cast! It's a dark spell, you fool! You could've used a simple hear-me-not spell and it would have done the trick!" Draco hissed.

" Well actually at's the first one I used… but I don' see why the Muffilato is considred da'k… s'not like it 'urts anyone…" Mundungus muttered more to himself than Draco. Draco sighed in impatience.

"Its not the effects that make it illegal, its how it works… you see… the spell itself had no adverse effects, but it draws power for the spell from whoever it is cast upon instead of who cast it… in other words… even a Squib with a wand could cast the spell. Another thing, for your information, it is impossible to take the Muffilato spell off. It has to wear off. Yet another reason for why it was banned" Draco leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, gathering the stored information to rattle off. Merlin how he loved being able to rote memorize (and luckily still comprehend it). "… not to mention any other banned spell or potion for this exact reason… did you even know there is a temporary magic transference spell that, if a Muggle or a Squib ingested the…"

Draco looked back at Mundungus and was exasperated when he heard a snore from the man. '_He's ASLEEP?_' Draco waved his wand and muttered a spell. A small glassful of ice-cold water appeared, hovering above the sleeping man. Draco flicked his wand again and the glass was dumped over Mundungus's head. He jerked awake, cursing profoundly.

"Awake now are we?" Draco asked sweetly, earning him a glare.

"Yeh coulda jus' tapped me… not like it woulda hurt you fer that courtesy…"

"Except then I would've gotten your filth and probably your lice buddies on me… now… what the hell are you doing stalking me? And you'd better have a damn good reason!"

"I wasn't stalkin' you… Dumbledore wanted me teh see that you weren't doin' anythin' reckless before yer allowed… he knows yeh've been sneakin round behind th' back of yer partner. That's not th best thing fer you teh be doin since not everyone trusts you yet…" Draco impatiently tapped his foot.

"I consider that stalking! Or at the least, following. Tell Dumbledore that I know my place and I won't make any moves before I'm '_allowed_.' Got it?" Draco stated flatly. He raised his eyebrow, annoyed, when he received no response.

"Fine, fine…" Mundungus conceded. He strode out of the small cubicle in almost a limp and disappeared around the corner. Draco sighed and propped his head up on his hand, elbow resting on his desk. He rubbed his temples with his first and middle fingers.

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Well… the good thing was that Malfoy hadn't shown up last two nights. The bad thing. He showed up tonight. '_Damn_.' Rathe had dropped a glass while he was washing dishes the moment he had looked in the mirror that looked out towards the front door and seen him enter again. Thank Merlin the glass wasn't going to come out of his paycheck. A perk of having steady hands. Usually. He would've had to work an extra half an hour (on double time) if that had been the case, to make up for the missing money in his paycheck.

He quickly finished up the dishes and started drying them, but was 'relieved' when the real man on dishwasher duty, late as always, finally showed up.

'_Back to the spotlight_.' Rathe winced as Malfoy's eyes caught his as he tied his apron around his waist and started taking orders. Again Malfoy caught his eye and ordered a double shot of Vodka in a 5" cup and then filled to the ¾ line with Margarita mix, something that Rathe was actually particular to when he received a free drink on special group nights.

This night, Malfoy didn't come in alone though. The same blonde woman that had been flirting with him on Saturday had come in with him, ordered a couple shots of straight Tequila, and was chatting animatedly with him. He recognized the slight waver around some of their clothing articles, a glowing greenish tinge that meant they had an Anti-Muggle hearing charm on. It merely let them talk about wizardries without Muggles noticing the strange topic.

'_They must've each put it on their clothes or something before they came in because they wouldn't have been able to cast it in the bar, packed full of Muggles_.' Rathe inched closer after a while when their conversation looked like it had become a bit serious, growing curious as to their topic, when he was called over to a table in the middle of the room, a frequent customer calling him over specifically.

"The usual, Joe?" he called, grinning. A nod confirmed him so he mixed the man's 'Sex On the Beach' and slipped from behind the bar with the drink on a large tray, sidling between a couple of standing groups to reach the table. He expertly swooped the drink onto the table in front of the man and took the empty glasses off their table and the next one he passed, balancing them on a tray and turning back towards the bar. He dropped the dirty glasses off in the kitchen and then gave a few people sitting around the bar refills, trying to avoid Malfoy and his girlfriend as much as possible.

By the end of the night, Rathe was happy to leave. Malfoy had stayed later than his date (who had left at 11) and had been observing everything from the small booth in the corner that he had procured shortly after, after a surprisingly short wait.

From time to time, Rathe had glanced over there and on more than one occasion had seen Malfoy staring in his general direction, which started making him a bit jumpy after about an hour of it. Unfortunately his nervousness seemed to make him more noticeable to Malfoy.

"Rathe… _Rathe_!" Rathe jerked his head over so fast that he put a crick in his neck. He rubbed his neck where the sharp pain was coming from and then turned to James, one of his regulars and his friend.

"Why don't you go over and say hi to the stud? I've noticed he keeps checking you out as well…" James simpered when Rathe blanched. He loved teasing Rathe, trying to 'turn him.'

"Do you realize who that is?" Rathe hissed at him between gritted teeth. James shook his head, his long, straight, bright blue hair bouncing back and forth, and smirked.

"Why? Do you already know his life story? What… is he a pole dancer or something? You don't want to catch an STD or somethin' from him? I mean… with a hot body like that, he's _got_ to be a stripper or _something_!" Rathe made a noise like he was choking and then turned away, putting his back to the man in question.

"Are you daft! That so-called 'stud' is Draco Malfoy!"

"Ah _hah_! You _do _think he's hot. So… rich _and_ sexy…" He clasped his hands together and raised them to his chin, putting on his puppy-dog eyes. "Aww come on… Go over there. You _never_ talk to anyone," he whined and then muttered "not even chicks…" nausea overcoming 'the look.' Rathe held up his hands and shrugged. "No? Well I guess I could give him a trial run for you…" James flashed Rathe an evil grin and made to go over to Malfoy's table, but Rathe grabbed him by the arm.

"You go over there and I swear you will never gloat about your prick again!" James' eyes widened and then, as James is prone to do, he covered his crotch with both hands and yelled, "You wouldn't do that to an old swish now would you!"

"You're only 20!"

He lowered his voice a little since he had the attention of most of the regulars, ignoring Rathe's comment. "You cruel, cruel man." he sighed and raised his voice again in mock distress, much to the amusement of everyone around him. "He's threatening to take my bloody mmph!" Rathe grabbed his arm and twisted it up and behind his back and covered his mouth before he could make anymore of a scene to embarrass him, but the rest of the bar, well aware of James' usual antics, laughed a good ten minutes more. Rathe got at least a dozen pats on the back and offers for assistance, but he just laughed and kept at his job.

After most of the activity had died down, Rathe guessed it was around 2:50AM, he looked over where Malfoy had been sitting. He wasn't there. Rathe turned around to wipe off the rest of the counter, feeling relieved to be out from under his scrutiny and nearly jumped backwards when he found Malfoy sitting at the bar. Rathe tried to slow his pounding heart.

"Excuse me, sir," Rathe caught himself from wincing, "but its almost closing time," Rathe told him gently, not knowing just how much he had had to drink. "Do you want me to call you a cab?" Malfoy shook his head.

"Nah. I'm fine. I've only got maybe an hour's walk to my flat." Rathe looked surprised.

"You aren't living in the Manor?" The blonde looked up sharply at him.

"How do you know… ah… never mind," he chuckled. Rathe had to look down at the table he was wiping down to keep from staring in surprise.

'_Malfoy just chuckled… Merlin, the world is going to end…_'

"You overheard Ms. Skeeter the other day, didn't you?" This time, Rathe did look up in surprise.

"Ms.?" he asked. "You two looked like you were a couple, I assumed…'

"Nah… I only met her a few days ago." Malfoy smiled at Rathe. "You can go after her if you want," he added and then laughed softly again. "She's not my type." A loud toll sounded throughout the room announcing closing time and causing Malfoy to jump… and spill his drink all over his pants. "Bloody hell..." he cursed.

"Jumpy are we?" Rathe teased gently. Malfoy glanced up at him and made a face, blotting at the dark spot on his pants with a napkin. "Here," he said, handing him a towel from behind the bar.

"And for the record, how many have you had? Just the two I served you?" The blonde nodded, still dabbing at his pants. "We have a washing machine upstairs if you want to wash them." Malfoy winced when he said 'machine.'

"I could never figure out how the bloody hell to use those damn Mu… machines…" he confided softly, after hurriedly correcting himself. Rathe smirked, catching the almostslip-up.

"Don't worry. I'm the only one here and I'm closing up. If you want I can show you." '_Why have the last couple encounters with him been so out of character?_' Rathe wondered to himself as he started to walk from behind the counter. The blonde shook his head.

"No thanks. I'll be fine. Er… dry… cleaners in the morning I guess," he admitted without too much difficulty thinking of the Muggle term. Rathe guessed as soon as he was alone or in his flat he would spell the stain away, so he shrugged and played along, walking Malfoy to the door.

Malfoy waved without turning around as he turned right and walked down the dark street. Rathe raised an eyebrow and then shut and locked the door, turning the open sign around. He finished cleaning the bar and locking everything up and then punched out as soon as the 3:30AM toll sounded, activated his Portkey and disappeared.

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_**>>> Wednesday, September 24 >>>  
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Draco nearly fell out his chair when a sharp thud on his desk caused him to jerk awake. He had propped his head up for a mere second and… fell asleep within moments. He looked up. And up. Shacklebolt had two hands flat on his desk and looked like it was he that had slammed his hands on Draco's desk to wake him.

"Draco," he started slowly, "this isn't like you. You've been late two days within one week, not to mention I've personally caught you falling asleep on your desk at least three times. Is there something going on? Do you need some time off? Are you sick?" He paused and then added "because… if you don't start shaping up soon I am going to leave you at your desk for another month." He quirked an eyebrow when Draco's mouth dropped and he started to protest, but Draco caught himself.

Draco looked down.

"I just… haven't been sleeping very well lately," Draco explained carefully, lips tight. '_That and going to the Tattoos and Scars each night…_' He had been going to the bar every night, carefully taking note of the different bartenders, bouncers, managers, and even the dishwashers when he could manage it. He was making sure no one he knew from personal experience or work would be showing up uninvited and keeping tab on who usually comes in when. Strangely, so far, each day he has seen (and started a short conversation with) that Rathe guy in the bar, usually (when Draco had actually stayed that long) all the way until closing time at 3AM. Whether he was keeping an eye on Draco, or just very dedicated, Draco had yet to determine.

"Well then, start going to bed earlier. Either that or go 'out' sooner and come back sooner." Shacklebolt quirked an eyebrow and then walked away, arms folded. Draco let his head fall to his desk, a resounding thud unheard above the noise in the office issuing from his head making contact with the hard desk.

'_Fuck…_' he groaned to himself. '_How the bloody effing hell…_' Draco sighed when he understood. '_Doesn't Dumbledore keep _anything _to himself_?' Draco hit his head on the desk a few more times before leaving it there and cursing his blind pride in his skills.

"You know," a voice chimed above his head, "I'm no expert… but I doubt that's the best way to write up reports…" Draco glanced up and nearly fell off his chair… again. Sirius stood over him, grinning from ear to ear. Draco stood up and clasped his hand, grinning warmly at him. They hugged momentarily, each giving the other a hearty pat on the back, and then Draco motioned for him to sit down in front of his desk.

"So… what news from Transylvania?" Draco joked. Sirius shook his head and laughed.

"The Muggle idea is that _vampires _come from Transylvania, not werewolves," he explained in mock-exasperation, like he did every time Draco made the joke.

Draco sat back in his chair and studied the long-haired man before him. Sirius looked good, a lot better than the last Draco had seen him, nearly eight months ago. He looked like he had toned up a bit, and he had definitely tanned some from being in the United States for a few months on vacation.

"So are you two going to be here for a while? Or are you and Remus planning on staying in Ohio for the rest of your lives?" he joked. Sirius shook his head.

"Nah. We figured we might as well be here with friends. So… tell me. How has the working side of the world been coming along?"

"I've actually been doing pretty good. I graduated Auror classes about two months after you two left for the States." Sirius goggled at him.

"Are you serious?" Draco interrupted him with a quick, "having memory loss or something? You're Sirius!" but Sirius continued. "I can't believe you graduated this quickly! What does it usually take? Two years? Three?"

"Five, actually, including summers off, three straight through, and I'm going to be out on the streets working hands-on in a matter of days," Draco told him confidentially. "I haven't told the guys from the academy yet though. I think they may get a tad bit rowdy again." Which was an understatement. When Draco had graduated his first year, they had piled all his books, clothes, and magical supplies, including his wand, on a one way flight for Australia. Lets just say they were hysterical and grabbing where they thought they didn't have their manhood anymore for about a week… or four.

"So, you still planning on finding your father?" Sirius finally asked. Draco nodded. "I wish you the best then." Sirius sighed. "I want to go out to a bar tonight, grab a drink… wanna come along?" Draco held up one finger. "Two conditions. One, if you let me finish up here first; I only need about an hour and a half more to finish my shift. Two, I get to pick the bar."

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Just so ya know, people, I have no clue what any good alcoholic drinks would be in England. So don't get on my case, lol, kay? And another thing... what is the legal drinking age in England? I'm hoping its less than in the States... otherwise i just screwed up this story a bit #wince# lol...

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**Okay… request to all you Brits out there. I need a list of insulting terms (and definitions) that are used in everyday England. They don't have to be extremely insulting, just things you would call your friends if they were being stupid etc, etc or bitchy. It doesn't really matter. But it would be a great help! - Thanks!**

**>>>>>**

**Acknowledgements and Answers (A.K.A. thanks for reviewing):**

**Daemon-In-White**: lmao… teehee… I love bored(dot)com! Tis funny… I've been going there for a few years now. And… oftener… _is_ a word… O.o wtf? I was about to say it isn't… but… my spell check just said it was… so… hmm… I shall now have to ponder this… #checks dictionary on computer# I guess… it is short for 'oftentimes'… wow… I guess you learn things every day… teehee V-V'… also, thanks again for the pep talk etc and I'm glad you like my story! #grins# (grr… I want to do the kitty face I am obsessed with, but the 'less than' sign thingy won't stay on cuz it is part of the html thingy or whatever for changing the font etc… GRRR!)

**sbkar**: Those are awesome questions and I promise they will be answered in the fic! But, unfortunately, if I tell you now, it shall ruin part of the story… but I can tell you #looks mysterious# that your 3rd and 4th question are both incorporated in the spell that Harry cast… MUAH HA HA HA HA! #cough cough# and the 1st and 2nd question will be answered soon… maybe… #kitty smiley face# and another thing… who says he looks so much like him? #glares# oh and, sorry if it seems that way so far, but with #1, that's not how I wanted people to look at their… er… relationship… its not that and you will understand more as the story goes on.

**TheTrioLivesOn**: Yay! Cookie! I shall update now cuz I have a cookie #kitty smiley face#and thanks… I think… lol… I'll try to not kill it

**caz-felton-malfoy**: Grr… now I wanna know what you think the plot shall be… grrness… lol… I hope I will surprise you with the direction it will go... I'll give you a cookie if you tell!

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THANKS ALL FOR REVIEWING AND READING!  
(If I didn't answer anyone that commented on the previous chapter before this one was up, I'm sorry, and if you message me I will correct the error! Thanks!)

>>>>>


	4. The Bet

Okay… lets try this again… I know I am a horrible person (T.T) and I have kept you all waiting for years… but I am going to try to get going on my story again… If I have lost every single person I had reading this story, I hope you will come back! I'll try not to disappoint you again! I'm going to write a bunch, then update a couple and hopefully I'll write faster than I'll post in case I get a block again. Chapters will be shorter from now on. Maybe that will keep me on this. One and a half jobs and school and a boyfriend altogether are really hard to mix with a time-consuming story… so… cheers!! Here's to the death of writer's block!!!!!!! YAY!!

Love to all!  
KAWAII

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**Chapter 4: The Bet**

**Summary:** Main Story after 'Sacrifice Myself For You'. After Harry died, Draco set off to find his missing father, but what he finds first might save him from his own intent for repentance. Setting: 2 years after 6th book. Main pair: HP'DM. some: RL'SB. some: RW'HG.

**Disclaimer: **#looks at everyone from jail cell# I got caught trying to steal them… DON'T LET IT HAPPEN TO YOU!!! Don't forget the disclaimer!! #grins evilly at Draco who is sitting on the bench next to me# Too bad Draco got taken into custody because he got caught makin' and distributin' Magus Shine… (teehee… my version of the wizard's equivalent of Moon Shine) #evil grin# (Draco: . Someone… Please help!!!)

**Warnings:** Slash; no like, no read… if you don't care for my choice of subjects to write about, then 'eff you sir, 'eff you in the bunghole… (credited to Robbie & Brynn). Gore, bad language and characters being IN character (for the most part, yet, as they will, characters will change depending on events that happen, clearly stated, implied, or not) will appear in abundance throughout this whole story, so again, if you don't approve, then I will gladly offer thy ass to thee for thou to KISS!! (if you need a translation then I feel sorry for you…) Also, if you haven't read up to the 6th book, there ARE spoilers, too. I'm not going to include much, if any, of the 7th book cuz I started this before it, so meh.

**A/N:** Okay… chapters will be slightly shorter (by about half actually) but they will hopefully be posted more often… yay me… lol… suggestions will always be taken into account, so don't be shy.

Sorry, but this is my first slashie… please tell me, peoples, if I get too OOC (without good reason -said or not said-)… I will try to fix it (if you tell me about it first)… And if I get the phrases wrong, sorry… I am an American… don't blame me, blame my parents #grin#…

Jeez… I talk too much before chapters… #sigh# ON WITH THE CHAPTER!! Teehee

#_blah, blah, blah_# speech in Parseltongue  
#blah# random noise  
"_Blah_" spell or accented word  
'_blah_' thoughts  
'blah' accented thought or silent spell  
"blah" speech

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**_Wednesday, September 24  
_**---- ---- ----

Rathe skirted another table as he weaved in and out of the customers that were standing, about ready to leave before the huge night rush started coming in. He gathered a few glasses off a table, glancing around for Malfoy's nearly nightly appearance. He hadn't arrived yet, but Rathe was confident that he would. Every time he came in, he made a point of talking to Rathe and the other employees, but Rathe was his most frequent.

James was going mad with glee.

'_Ooh yay…_' Rathe grimaced mentally. He saw and heard a few people jump when a particularly loud crack of thunder resounded throughout the pub moments after a bright flash lit the whole sky up, the windows in the roof allowing a clear view of the dark sky and the rolling clouds. A thick sheet of rain started pelting the roof and windows. A few people rushed out of the door holding umbrellas and some even substituting a newspaper.

"So… how _you _doin'?" Rathe felt a cold shiver run down his back at Malfoy's cool, husky voice. He went beet red when he felt a smooth hand come to rest on his lower back and then slowly caress its way lower. He spun around and nearly punched the man standing behind him before realizing it was James, using one of his more useless talents to imitate specific voices.

"Jeez! You nearly decked me! And me… only trying to help you realize your love for the young, supple, sexy, beast of a man… Come on… you know that turned you on just now!" James grinned when Rathe merely turned around and picked up the glasses from the table near him. The glasses clanked together as Rathe suppressed his whim to take another swing at James.

James was a good enough guy, and was a great friend (not that Rathe told him all the details of his 'life' as it were) but he was definitely fun. And even though he got annoying, sometimes, Rathe thought, on purpose, he was a great guy.

"Number one, I don't play for the team you are on; I prefer not to hit balls with _my_ bat. Number two, I don't want, nor have time in my life for romantic relationships. I barely have time to make friends, let alone hang out…"

"Only cause you won't allow yourself to take a day off of work and have some fun! When's the last time you had some fun?"

"Before I got to my 'uncle's' house, I know that much…" Rathe muttered darkly.

"What'd you say? I didn't catch that."

"Nothing" Rathe told him, not meeting his eyes. He set the glasses down next to the sink and yelled for the dish washer. No answer.

"Little asshole… where the hell is he this time?!?" Rathe growled. "This is the third time this week that he hasn't been here when I needed him.

"Ooh… counting days apart are we? Pining for this guy too?" James grinned. "Are we cheating on our dear Dracy already?" Rathe glared at him.

"One of these times, I am going to strangle you…" James only licked his lips and grinned.

"So… you _are_ going to be here tomorrow night, _right_?" he asked, suspiciously coy. Rathe rolled his eyes and groaned loudly.

"Ye-es…" he huffed. James's grin broadened.

"I'm going to laugh my balls off if he shows up tomorrow." He tapped one long finger to his chin, thinking. "Wager me? If you lose, you have to ask him on a date… either that or go to his house-"

"Flat…" Rathe corrected automatically as James finished his sentence and then stared at him.

"-at least twice… Wait… How do _you_ know what he has? _Hmm_?" James raised his eyebrow.

"So we talked a couple times…" Rathe shrugged and walked out of the kitchen after searching it thoroughly for the missing dish washer. He let the swinging door shut behind him, silently, magically sealing the door before James walked through it. A loud thud followed him, causing him to smile innocently when James tried the door again and found it to be fine.

James flipped him off.

"No thanks," Rathe answered accordingly.

"_As I was saying_… if he shows up tomorrow night, I win. If he doesn't, you win. And this time, _no interfering_! You can't tip this one off about it!"

"And what do I get if I win?" Rathe asked, knowing James knew he wouldn't back down off of a bet, crossing his slightly tanned arms. James thought for a second.

"Hmm… phone book?" Rathe shook his head in amusement. Hitting him upside the head with the London copy of the phone book wasn't enough this time.

"Not good enough."

"Umm… I'll ask a chick out on a date, you get to choose. I'll even be very nice and go so far as to give her a kiss goodnight..." he muttered, already feeling the guillotine coming down on his neck, though he was pretty certain he would win the bet.

'_Bulls' eye_' Rathe grinned and stuck out his hand. "This ought to be hilarious." James sighed. "Alright… Deal." James grimaced good-naturedly, but grabbed Rathe's hand and shook it firmly.

"You realize that I'm not going to let you off the hook until you two kiss?" Rathe, who had been looking around for Ryan again, blanched and looked back at James.

"Are you kidding me?!?" James rolled his eyes and then sighed.

"I guess I can be happy for a mere shag… should be plenty of beer and skittles…" Rathe's eyes bulged.

"You said one date or going to his flat twice… you said _nothing_ about a shag! Or even a snog!" James pursed his lips.

"What did you _think_ I meant when I wanted you to go to his flat? Talk about how he got Harry Potter killed?" Rathe paled considerably, but held his ground.

"I am _not_ going to shag another man."

"Well then you can at least snog him… and I want all the juicy details."

"Just because you get off on that kind of thing doesn't mean that I want to. Where the bloody fucking hell is that damn kid?!"

"Jeez… you're really upset over this aren't you?" James asked, now feeling slightly abashed at taking advantage of Rathe's vow to not back down from any reasonable bet for three months in this way.

"It's just the fact that it is Malfoy… I mean… he's pretty much been the winner of the Bastard of the Year award for 18 years running…"

"So… what happened between you two? Is he an old enemy? Was it a schoolboy rivalry? He a past _lo_ver?" James slipped in. Rathe closed his eyes and bit both of his lips at the same time to keep from laughing loudly. He planted both hands on the counter and leaned heavily on them both.

"You do realize I am going to kill you as soon as I can breathe again?" he stated without looking up. James cleared his throat, said a quick "Ta!" and then disappeared quickly into the crowd.

"That man is going to die a very painful death for dragging me into this… It just had to be Malfoy… Merlin, help me…" he muttered, refilling a tankard with ale.

He noticed James hurry over to the door and greet someone that came in just then. The flash of rain-soaked bleach-blonde hair was enough to tell Rathe to get out of there, just in case James had mentioned something along the lines of Rathe liking his 'tight arse.' Rathe paled at the thought.

'_Merlin… I really hope Malfoy doesn't show up tomorrow… Besides being disturbing and creepy, James would never let me live it down. He knows how much I want to see him making nice with a chick… because it would be unbelievably hilarious… but I really don't want to be _anywhere_ alone with that prat._'

He finished a few more orders before determining that it was no longer safe for him to be 'out in the open.' There were three other bartenders working, so he ducked his head slightly and told the others that he'd take the dish washer shift since Stephen still wasn't there. Rathe just prayed, though it gave him the dirty job, that Stephen didn't show up before Malfoy left.

He should have knocked on wood or something because ten minutes later, Ryan showed up for his shift and Rathe had to go back out on the floor.

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Left.

Left.

Left, right, left.

Malfoy wasn't emphatically swaying his hips like some of the chicks that walked out onto the floor right when 'Honky-tonk Badonkadonk' started up, but his feet were keeping the beat. Unconsciously or otherwise, Rathe couldn't tell… but the effect certainly captivated many people's attention as he made his way across the room. Rathe heard the collective sigh of defeat when Malfoy made a beeline for him and smiled at him as he sat down. Rathe felt like almost every unattached person in the room glared at him before turning back to what they were doing, thinking that Malfoy was taken and they didn't have a chance. James sidled up and glided into a seat right next to Malfoy. Rathe noted it and his inner self seethed like a plugged volcano about to erupt.

James rested his arm alongside Draco's, so close that their arm hair could touch.

"Can I help you?" Draco asked smoothly, raising a thin eyebrow.

"I was just coming over to see who my friend Rathe here had snagged. Quite a catch, eh Rathe?" Draco turned away, his blush deepening, making James grin wickedly.

"So what do you do for a living, Draco?" Draco looked at him sharply, but relaxed when he saw the look of daggers and feigned innocence that passed between the two men. He smiled slowly.

"I'm a CEO actually."

"Oh really? Where at?"

"Oh I'm sure you've heard of it before… It's a large place called Bite-Me Industries." James's grin widened.

"When, where, and how hard?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rathe hit his forehead with his palm, shaking his head exasperatedly.

"Jeez Rathe, would ya put a leash on this guy already?" Draco pleaded, throwing his hands in the air. Rathe rolled his eyes.

"Tried that a couple times before… I gave up trying a long time ago… James keeps chewing through them, not to mention he thinks its kinky… Besides, _you_ shouldn't encourage him." Draco let out a full-hearted laugh, causing Rathe to stop and stare, wondering how two years had completely changed Draco. '_Course I guess I must've changed enough for him not to recognize me either…_'

"I'll try to stop. Though it is funny how off balance he gets you, what with you being so uncomfortable in the first place. At least he gets you to open up a bit. You seem kinda stiff and uninterested otherwise. You should have more fun in life, get out more."

"Speaking of which…" James cleared his throat, causing Rathe to grit his teeth.

"Don't even think about it. You haven't won yet, so don't think I won't kill you for mentioning it before you're supposed to!" James gave him the puppy-dog eyes.

Rathe just glared at him, but James didn't back down.

"I wonder what's taking him so long to get here," Draco mumbled, ignoring the confusing conversation.

"What was that, Mal… er… Draco?"

Draco's eyebrow twitched '_No one my own age has called me by my surname since… school, I think…_' "I was just wondering to myself when my friend is planning on getting here. He was supposed to meet me here half an hour ago… I hope nothing happened to him on his way here…"

Rathe looked curious, but he didn't say anything. James looked… there was no other way to describe it… deflated.

"What's his name? Maybe we know him."

"He's never been here before, so I highly doubt you would know him."

"You never know."

"He's from around here, but he uhh… moved… when I was only a few years old and lived far away. I didn't even meet him til a couple years ago and then about half a year ago he moved across sea and I've only seen him once since then. So no… you probably wouldn't know him… seriously." Draco had almost had enough when James quirked his mouth. '_Why is he so inquisitive all of a sudden?_'

"Anyway, though" Draco added "I'll be back in in a moment. Don't worry, I'm not running out on my tab, I just want to get some air."

Rathe shrugged, and Malfoy stood up and strode out of the pub, pulling his coat on as he walked. The door slammed and lightning flashed at the same moment after he left.

"Don't even think about getting us hooked up. You haven't won the bet and I won't let you interfere with his choice of coming tomorrow! I know you!" Rathe added as James put his most innocent-looking face on. "As soon as you can, you'll tell him to come in tomorrow to have a drink with me. You said I couldn't tell him not to come in, so you can't interfere either!"

"Fine, fine, fine… and no I won't spell the posters to disappear when he comes near either" James lied easily.

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**Okay… request to all you Brits out there. I need a list of insulting terms (and definitions) that are used in everyday England. They don't have to be extremely insulting, just things you would call your friends if they were being stupid etc, etc or bitchy or acting gay etc. It doesn't really matter. But it would be a great help. Currently I am going on what my dictionary tells me are slang etc terms used in the U.K. #sigh# Tis annoying… especially cuz I dunno whether they are up to date or not. Thanks!!**

**Acknowledgements and Answers (A.K.A. thanks for reviewing):**

TheTrioLivesOn- I thank you sooo much… you give me confidence to continue because I know that at least one person will be reading… and I reeeeeeaaally hope I won't let you down!! Please tell me when my story starts to suck. Lol…


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